The Meaning of Mornings
by Maxxe Venier
Summary: Takes place before things get crazy in Act 3. Hawke notices Anders drifting away and tries to bring him back. Just a fluffy one-shot.


Hawke used to cherish the mornings. She looked forward to waking up each day, to feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin and the comforting closeness of her lover's body. She always awoke before Anders, and she loved to watch him sleep. He never looked so peaceful when he was awake. True, sometimes he was plagued by the nightmares most Gray Wardens suffer, but never in the mornings. Perhaps the light chased away his demons, she had mused once. Whatever the reason for it, when the sun was rising and the day was beginning, he always slept the soundest.

She would curl up close to him, sometimes placing her hand gently over his, or lovingly brushing strands of hair from his face. His expression while he slept was always one of pure contentment, untouched by the worries of the waking world. When she watched him, she felt like her heart would burst from the love she felt for him, and from the wonder that he felt the same for her. It still amazed her, even after all this time together.

Finally, when she could bear the feeling no longer, she would run her fingers gently across his cheek or neck, or place a chaste kiss on his lips to gently rouse him from his sleep. He always greeted her with a drowsy smile and a warm embrace, and she treasured that moment more than anything. This smile was always the most sincere, never tainted by anger or worries or fears. It was always full of love, and meant only for her.

They would lie together each morning, holding each other close. Some mornings, he would kiss her cheek and whisper adorations in her ear. Often, these sweet nothings turned into naughty somethings, and they would make love in the light from her window. At night sometimes their lovemaking was consumed with passion and lust, but always in the morning it was emotional and pure, and more than once she found tears in her eyes from the overwhelming presence of love between them.

When they finished, they would return to their cuddling, this time playfully talking and kissing, until they were forced to leave their bed to greet the rest of the day.

This used to be their routine, and this used to be what she looked forward to each day. But no more.

Hawke could not remember the last time she had awoken to find Anders asleep next to her. He was always gone, and she never felt him leave. At first, she hadn't been worried. She just assumed he had found himself especially in need at the clinic lately, or that he had urgent business with the mage underground and hadn't wanted to worry her. But more and more it happened, and she was beginning to wonder if he even slept at all, or if he left as soon as she was asleep. His absence had begun to hurt.

She tried to broach the topic once before. She mentioned that she had been cold when she awoke recently. He had known what she was saying, and smiled sadly at her and kissed her on the head and told her he would fix that. She had smiled back, certain that he would stay with her until morning again. But still, she woke up alone.

Hawke had even resorted to trying to stay awake all night, so she would catch him when he left and ask him what was so important that he had to leave her. But she never managed to stay awake. His breathing was the sweetest lullaby, and his warmth the greatest comfort. She couldn't help drifting off, no matter how hard she tried to avoid it.

This day was going to be the last day she would wake up cold and alone and wondering where he was. The hurt had morphed into anger, and the anger was driving her to find out where exactly he went every night that prevented him from staying with her, where he belonged.

She went about her day as planned, paying occasional visits to the clinic when she had the time. Anders was never there, much to her displeasure. Finally, that evening, she decided to drop by the Hanged Man. If Anders wasn't there, she could at least cool off steam with her other companions, and perhaps one of them had seen him today and could tell her where she was.

Hawke stalked into the Hanged Man, glaring around at the familiar patrons before spotting her target in a far corner, leaning over a mug and in the company of their mutual friends. She weaved in and out of the crowd, focused, never taking her eyes off her target, like a predator on the prowl.

Her prey never noticed her approach. He was too busy with his card game to pay attention to much else. Their companions however noticed her right away, and from the looks on their faces, they could tell Hawke was not happy. She stopped right behind him, but still he seemed unaware of her, despite the nervous glances from their friends.

"I would speak with you, Anders," Hawke said bitterly. If he was surprised at her presence or her anger, he didn't show it. He didn't even put down his cards. This angered her even more. "Now," she spat through gritted teeth.

He stood stiffly and turned to face her, his expression blank, but his eyes pained.

"Shall we get a room?" Hawke asked. Isabela looked as if she were about to make a joke, but a quick glare from Hawke silenced the pirate before she even opened her mouth. Anders nodded at her and followed her to an empty room after she handed the tavern girl a bit of coin for the key.

As soon as the door was shut and locked behind them, she turned quickly on her heel and glared at him with her arms crossed. "Where have you been lately?" she asked.

Despite herself, she noticed the way his hair framed his face, and the way his eyes sparkled in the candlelight, and the way he looked at her with sadness and love in his eyes. Maker, this was not the time to swoon.

"Busy," Anders replied, sounding exhausted. He looked at her through tired, half-lidded eyes, and she felt her stomach tighten in that familiar way. How could he be so infuriating and attractive at the same time? She never knew if she wanted to kiss him or kill him. Maybe it was a bit of both.

She fought against her urge to attack him, took a deep breath, and said the words she'd been holding in for so long. "I've missed you."

Anders flinched visibly. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his features softening.

"You never stay with me anymore," Hawke told him, unable to hide the resentment in her voice. Now that she'd started speaking, she couldn't stop the words. "And you have been so distant, I don't know what is going on with you. Do you no longer wish to be with me?"  
"Of course I do." His voice was pleading her to believe him.

"Then where do you go every night? What is so urgent that it draws you from my bed?"

"I'm doing work that is important to me. I had hoped you would support me," Anders was saying now, but she was too angry.

"You won't even tell me what you're doing!" Hawke sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "I let you keep working to smuggle mages out of the Circle -" she cut herself off at the look on Anders' face. She knew the moment the words came out of her mouth that they were the wrong thing to say.

"You _let_ me help mages?" Anders was shaking with rage. She thought she saw a glint of blue in his eyes.

"That's not what I meant," Hawke began, trying to mask the worry and fear she felt growing in her stomach. A verbal fight with Anders was one thing, but a physical fight with Justice was something much different. She didn't want to go down that road.

"Then please explain what you meant when you said you allowed me to do my work, that you allowed me to set people free, that you allowed me to do what is right and just," Anders spat. Before Hawke could reply, a burst of blue filled the room and Anders was Justice.

"Be gone, meddler! Anders has work to do, and I will not let you interfere!" Justice took a step towards her, fury and hatred for her in his eyes. He reached out his hands to her and she drew her sword as quickly as she could. Justice laughed and took a battle stance, preparing to cast a spell, and Hawke was sure these would be her last moments alive if she didn't strike now and kill her lover and the demon inside him. She raised her sword, prepared to defend herself if she had to.

Then the glow was gone, and Anders was stumbling. Hawke dropped her sword and rushed to his side to hold him up, and he grasped at her desperately.

"What happened?" he asked, the fear in his voice making Hawke's heart clench. "Was it Justice?"

She nodded. "He doesn't like me much."

Anders forced a small chuckle. "No, he doesn't." His face distorted into a painful grimace.

"Let's sit down," Hawke said quickly, and guided him silently to the bed. They plopped down on the lumpy mattress, his arms still around her for support.

"It's becoming harder and harder for me to control him," Anders whispered. "I don't remember what happens when he comes out. It's like my mind goes blank and I don't exist for a while." He leaned over and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's terrifying, and I'm so afraid I'll hurt you." He looked up at her, a crazed, desperate look in his eyes. "Please tell me I didn't hurt you."

She shook her head and placed a hand on his thigh. "I'm fine, just concerned for you."

Anders scoffed and turned away again. "I brought this on myself, as you are so fond of reminding me."

It was true. She'd told him many times before tonight that Justice was not a friend, and that Anders had made a mistake in taking the spirit - or demon, as it was now - into himself. But she knew now was not the time to rub it in.

"I'm sorry," Anders said again. "I don't mean to be… distant. I have been a bit preoccupied as of late. I'll try harder to –"

Hawke cut him off with a kiss. "Just stay with me again," she whispered, and pressed her lips back to his, urging him to understand what that simple act meant to her. His arms wrapped around her and she felt his body relax against hers. He deepened the kiss, and she knew he understood.

They fell upon the bed, still entwined, and made love. Hawke felt all the tensions and worries that had plagued her drift away. She felt the love between them grow and swell again, and it was a warm comfort in the recent sea of loneliness she'd felt trapped in.

When they were sated, Hawke curled up in his arms, pressed against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent and feeling at peace in a way only his presence could bring. She moved closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around her in a tight squeeze. When he relaxed, she pulled away to look into his eyes, and saw in his eyes a mixture of emotions she couldn't decipher.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she finally asked.

He smiled his sad smile at her. "I just..." He shrugged. "I never thought you would still be with me."

"I'll always be with you," she whispered.

He turned away from her. His jaw was tense, and she could tell he was fighting with himself to hold his tongue. Good, she thought. She didn't want to hear any more talk about how he was a monster, how he didn't deserve her, how she should stay away from him. She didn't want to hear something that would make her wonder where her love had gone, or if he was losing his fight against Justice. She just wanted to lay here with him and wake up in the morning to find him still here.

She resumed cuddling against his chest and soon drifted off to sleep, lulled to rest by Anders' rhythmic breathing and hoping the next morning would not wake up alone.

To her surprise and pleasure, she didn't.

* * *

A/N: This is the result of a DA2 binge followed by a writing binge, and my first fanfiction in over seven years. I don't think I did all that well with this one, but I didn't have any idea what I was going to write before I started, and this piece kind of just happened. Thank you for reading! Any feedback would be appreciated!


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